Misunderstood
by Dracoqueen22
Summary: FINISHED A collection of oneshots from ten different POV's including Hojo and Lucrecia, all concerning Vincent Valentine. A companion piece to my 'Shattered Arc'. Warnings for insanity, mentions of rape and torture, language, angst, disturbing imagery
1. Creature, My Valentine

I'm surprised that this came out of my mind. It's scary how surprisingly easy it was to get into Hojo's head. I'm kind of shivering with the fright that I could do this. But it goes with the story so let me know what you think?

This is from Hojo's POV and its sick and twisted. It's my idea of how he thought based on the Shattered Universe.

Warnings for insanity and mentions of rape. God, I hate Hojo but I must admit as I expand my horizons as I writer, it is interesting to see how I can change my POV.

**Misunderstood**

Episode 1: Creature, My Valentine

I hated him, you see.

Despised everything that he stood for with his conceited stare and upturned nose as if he thought the work of a scientist was beneath his notice. He had the gall to tell me I was a monster when his job was to kill, maim and destroy. The pot calling the kettle black in my mind…

Not that I believe that you would be able to understand. Ha, ha, ha, like I cared what anyone thought of me. I was a scientist and as such I was above and beyond your expectations and opinions.

He started out as a minor annoyance, with his grey eyes mooning after my Lucrecia. I saw it every time he looked at her that he wanted her. Well good, that was all according to plan.

I needed subjects… strong ones. And as much as I hated to admit it, Valentine and his partner were two very powerful men. Could I help that he gave me the opportunity? My sweet wife's innocence and beauty could not be ignored. Yes, I used her… fully and completely. Do I care? Hmph. Pity the thought.

If it hadn't been for my superior intelligence I would have almost believed that she would have left me for him. Lucky for me, the girl was a brainless twit and easily led into doing whatever I said. Never even knew I was using her not even at the end when I let her die alone. I had more important things to do… the failure of a child… that was Sephiroth.

He was weak… so very weak at first. No matter what I pumped into his body. He cried and screamed, writhing in pain and agony. It was delicious.

But I digress. We were not here to discuss my son now were we? No, the topic here was one Vincent Valentine… my ultimate enemy…. my own little monster.

He who dared try and oppose me. Well… I showed him what happened when you crossed a brilliant scientist. With all his arrogance and stubbornness, I destroyed that, didn't I? I can't help but smirk at the memory. He was so very enchanting to break…

He resisted, oh yes he did. Refusing to open those pert little lips and scream for me, carrying a glare full of hatred for the first five months or so no matter what I did to him. Sometimes it was better that way… it's better when they resist… ha, ha, ha.

Humans are such predictable creatures, believing in fragile ideals of hope and honesty. I think he truly believed that he would break free and save himself and his one and only true love… the woman that played him for a fool. Ha, ha, ha, priceless!

I had to own him… I had to show him who was more powerful, stronger. With his piercing grey eyes and ebony hair that caused men and women alike to swoon with desire, along with his charm, constantly trying to sway what rightfully belonged to me… I had to show him who was master. He needed to be ruled, degraded and owned.

His body, I scarred and marked with tools, trying to get a reaction. Knives, saws, scalpels, instruments of torture of my own design and still he resisted. It became a game to see how far I could go before he gave in to me and blubbered like a child.

I liked to watch the knife slice through his skin, so smooth and toned at the time. He was in good shape, I suppose being a Turk came with its own advantages. I enjoyed watching the blade as it cut through him inch by inch, the blood welling up and trickling across his skin in little rivulets as he closed his eyes and attempted to keep all cries of agony from his face. But the twitches, the hitches of breath and unavoidable unconscious attempts to get away were unmistakable.

And he was perfect, my Valentine. His body accepted the mako so readily, burning through his veins like a purifying fire, bonding with his blood cells and changing him into my perfect creation… the ultimate soldier… everything my _son_ was failing to be.

It made him stronger and faster… and when I added the mako, he was damn near invincible. It hurt… the pain was excruciating I knew. He bit his lips and bore it, mouth constantly tasting copper in an attempt to prove his tenacious stubbornness.

Why? Why did I hate him so? Why did I insist that his degradation, his pain and agony was my pleasure?

Was it because of his self-assured dignity? Did I enjoy breaking him piece by piece? Cutting on his arm, watching it heal and regrow thanks to the Jenova and mako, only to shred it once more, I took away his dignity and his pride when I tore through his gun arm. But he still resisted.

He fought me with his curses, his glares, and his unwillingness to let a cry of pain escape from his throat. I wanted to hear it… I wanted to see him whimper in fear and sob like a little child. I desired to see him broken, beaten and bloody at my feet as I stood over him in triumph. All in the name of science of course… all in the name of science.

He bled for me, writhed for me but he wouldn't scream… not until the day I claimed him as mine. He was no longer even human now that he was my possession, my toy to forever torture and crave. He had managed, even in his subdued state, to lord over me and I was not about to let that go unpunished. He became an obsession and I had to show him who was lord and master.

I took pleasure, some might call it sadistic but I call it just rewards, in beating him down, stripping him naked and pushing him to the floor. The white tile was splashed with his crimson fluid, lightly glowing with the vast amounts of mako as he attempted to hold himself up with one shredded and loosely bandaged arm. He tried to fight back, that one lucky shot with a well-timed backwards kick. I knew he still had some fight in him…

The sound as the wrench cracked over his spine was one I will always recall fondly. His back arched, long raven tresses flying over pale skin and a body thin from lack of nourishment. He had to earn his food, you see, and more often than not it was something I'd hardly feed to a dog… Not to mention that a side-effect of mako was that it burned at you from the inside, requiring a far faster metabolism than was normal. I had thought that the Jenova cells would counter balance that effect but that hypothesis was wrong… oh, well.

I wanted him to feel inhuman, I wanted his degradation. His shame and misery was my ecstasy… ha, ha, ha.

I locked him up in that dirty cell while I was busy with Sephiroth. I watched him shiver naked and hungry on the dirt floor amongst the rats and a standing pool of stagnant water. Sometimes I would inject him with hallucinogens, just to watch his reaction. I was not displeased with the results. He would claw at the floor or just thrash about as the injection interfered with the mako or Jenova cells.

He would hold his head and talk quietly to himself as he attempted to combat the voices in his head. Sometimes he would scream at them to shut up or leave him alone, brief lapses in his normally affable composure I am sure. They were telling him all sorts of things I know. They were demons of destruction and death, pain and agony. I knew the images they conveyed would bother him and it was amusing.

There was only one way to make a man feel like less than a man and I wasn't shy about humiliating and debasing him. He was my Valentine, my creation, I could do as I pleased. To me, he was no longer anything more than a plaything and a scientific experiment… how much agony could a body withstand? Ha, ha, ha… apparently a fair amount.

I sank into him, pushing in deeply and quickly with no preparation, and he was tighter, far tighter and more satisfying than Lucrecia had ever been. His back arched with pain and he bled, everywhere crimson liquid coursing down his thighs and he grunted in pain but still I continued. Every little whimper, every shriek and call for clemency was like music to my ears. I absorbed them and smirked with my victory. He was _mine._

Mine to own, control, devour. I hurt him, tortured him, muddled with his mind until he became little more than a collection of guilt and sorrow so that he would forever know he was my possession. I destroyed his mind, shattered it completely so that he would forever question his actions. I took away his self-importance and every last shred of confidence.

It was glorious.

And then… I locked him up; put him in a coffin to sleep like the monster he was.

I had grown too attached and Sephiroth… ah, dear child… he had begun to show promise. Far more than my creature had. He was stronger, Lucrecia's child. I suppose I could thank the bitch for that but I won't bother. He had my seed as well. She was little more than a carrier, her body all I needed for an incubation chamber. It seemed that a human child could not function outside of the womb and grow properly with the added influence of mako and Jenova. Lucrecia was a handy and disposal tool.

I threw him away like trash, but I couldn't completely destroy what was left of a battered and broken body. After all, he was still very much an experiment. I wanted to know what combination of mako, Jenova, and summon materia would do to a man… no, not a man but a creature.

I was more than pleased with the results.

He asked, he cried, he begged that I not push down the lid. The darkness, it was that he feared. It was alive, he claimed, it grasped at him with tainted hands and whispered words of shadows and blood. The voices of the Apocalypse demons, I imagine… I had trained him well. A decisive and utter victory to hear him tell me that I was his master. Ha, ha, ha…

But as for being the ultimate soldier, well, I had found someone stronger, more worthy of my attentions. The defeated Valentine no longer held any appeal to me. He still held a special place in me though, I couldn't just kill him. Hmph. I don't think I could have killed him anyways.

I shrugged. The properties of the Jenova cells and the effect of the Apocalypse materia was still not understood. Who knows? Who cares?

So I locked him up, put the key in the safe and guarded it with Lost Number… the last remaining flesh of Valentine's friend. Oh, the guilt that came with that information. I could see the ache and anguish etched into his face when I told him that it was his fault that I had to do that to Raven. After all, if I had not been forced into making him my possession at an inopportune moment… Raven might have escaped.

Ha, ha, ha. I watched from afar as Valentine tortured himself with that information. Another slice of guilt to the pie and it was delicious.

He never should have defied me, never should have stood in the way of science. He might have gotten away with simple mako and Jenova injections… but the fool dared to touch what belonged to me, so I showed him what it meant to disobey. He had to learn in the most obvious way possible.

Ha, ha, ha. They were coming, I knew. Coming to stop the mad scientist from giving his son the power needed to destroy this pitiful and unimaginative world. But they don't know of my secret weapon, the tiny ring around my finger that I have held onto for this time. I told him he would be my weapon but perhaps in the many years, that knowledge had rotted from his filthy mind.

Did they think I had forgotten about the Turk in the ShinRa Mansion basement? Did the fools honestly believe that anything that had happened to them was luck? Was the failure so stupid as not to question why he lived and Zack died?

Of course not. Otherwise he wouldn't have been any use to serve my purpose. Everything… all of this, carefully orchestrated by me. The supposed numberless man who lost his mind, the well-placed Turk in the basement of a decrepit mansion guarded by the insane monster of a long-lost friend…. all part of my plot.

Hmph.

I'm probably going to die.

But long after this, I will still be remembered. When the world thinks it is safe, should these fools manage to destroy my son and Jenova, I shall come back to haunt them. The wheels of destruction and fate are turning, and I hold the key.

But they won't know will they?

I will carry the secret to the grave with me.

So come little puppets, come destroy the scientist that is trying to give his son power. And seal your fate with that very action… seal your inevitable destruction.

Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.

----

Hmm, dark isn't it? Makes you hate the bastard more doesn't it?

So, feel free to leave a comment.


	2. In the Name of Science

Lucrecia's POV

Warnings for Insanity and Language

**Episode 2: In the Name of Science **

At one point, I may have loved him.

I'm sure there was a time when all that mattered was being with him. After all, even thirty years later, he was still on my mind. When he came here, angry with the papers, the proof of my betrayal, I could scarce speak. I wanted him to be here to stay with me, I was so lonely. And my guilt and sorrow was so heavy, I wanted to share the burden with someone who would care, someone who had loved me as well.

But that was not why he came.

He was always so sweet, dear Valentine. So tender, every touch or caress determined to show me how much he cared. He whispered soft words into my ears as he took me gently. To him, it was all about me. My pleasure came first, my smile.

He never even knew it was all a ploy, so well did I play my role.

Still he fought for me, died for me, tried to protect me and my unborn child. He didn't know whether Sephiroth was his or Hojo's, but that didn't matter to him. In his eyes, the life in my womb was an innocent, no matter its genetics, and didn't deserve what was done. He had such a strong heart and mind, loyal and steadfast. He thought with his heart, though his friends oft thought him cold and unfeeling. I remember Raven once commenting on his partner being about as conversational as a wall.

He was a Turk; yes, and what a fine Turk he made. I would almost swear they made those dark blue uniforms just to fit a man of his stature, he wore it so well. He was good at his job, seemingly detached when he needed to be and a brilliant thinker at that. Always quick to act when the need arose. He was an excellent marksman… I suppose all these qualities were what made him do so well as Commander.

I don't know why the President gave him and his partner to us. I oft wondered what it was he had done to piss off Mr. ShinRa himself…

Thirty years… it was a long time ago… those events that irretrievably changed the lives of the world. Even now, when I think about it and remember, I still find it hard to believe that I was led so easily. I still want to believe that it was all for the good of the future. The Jenova Project was supposed to be a brilliant divesture into an unknown science, a new frontier for those bored of conventional studies.

Imagine! The Promised Land! A place of wonder and intrigue, filled to the brim with power and energy, enough to make everyone happy for the rest of their lives. Jenova, the Ancient, as such was too big to pass up. I would have been an idiot to stand in the way of that science, and I was no fool. True, it required sacrifices… but for the good of mankind, I would do anything.

Even seduce a man so that he would become pliable.

I won't forget the day we first met. It was long before that day in Nibelheim, back in the ShinRa building when I started to work for my dear Hojo in the beginning. I was nothing but a young, impressionable assistant when I became lost, trying to find Hojo's laboratory. I was wandering around the many floors of the ShinRa building, looking every bit the weak and lost female. I suppose he thought he was coming to my rescue; the second time I nearly fell to the ground after someone rudely pushed me out of the way.

He had the most extraordinary grey eyes, I remember. Granite and strong, like storm clouds of a fiery nature with so much passion and intensity behind them. They were eyes I could have fallen in love with, had I not then met the man who would be my husband.

Valentine was quiet as he asked me if I needed help that day. He glared at the man that had pushed me and offered out an arm like the gentlemen he proved himself to be. I could only blush and take his arm as I directed him towards the science department. I had made up my mind to get to know this man… until the moment I walked through the door and met the wonder, who was to be my superior as we studied with Professor Gast. He took my breath away.

Hojo had grey eyes, as well, a startling paradox, I realize. But his eyes were a dark grey, so dark they were nearly black. They drew me in like a black hole on the horizon, pulling me so close that I dare not escape. I didn't want to, I was hopelessly ensnared and forever his. He eclipsed Vincent… everything about him was inherently more powerful.

After that, Vincent never had a chance.

But I see now, perhaps my fascination with Hojo was a bit unhealthy. My love for him was too strong, causing me to make foolish mistakes. In the end, for Hojo, it was about the child. I died alone, with my sorrows and pain as I listened to the frightened and pained cries of a son I never even got to hold. I was merely a tool, just as dear Valentine was.

And, yet, I still love that scientist to this day. The ways he made me feel could not be compared. Both the pleasure and the pain… he used me.

Here I am alone now, by myself in this cave I had set up to house my seemingly immortal soul and body. I can't die that easily, and I am far too squeamish to take my own hand to end my torment. My son… was dead as Vincent told me. My dear sweet Sephiroth with his beautiful grey eyes when he was born. Grey that then became clouded with the green of the mako. My husband was dead and gone, destroyed by the man who had harbored hatred for him. And abandoned, turned away by the one man I thought would never want to leave my side. I suppose, even in the end, he understood the truth.

Vincent was the only one who truly cared, and I trampled his feelings, using them against him.

That was my purpose. That was the task that Hojo had set forth for me. He saw the way that Vincent looked at me… I saw the way that he watched me. He was starving for affection, as if he had never really known love… It was easy.

A shy smile, a look from beneath curled lashes, casual gentle touches with my hands when he wasn't prepared, and he melted to my charms. It wasn't long before he found his way to my bed, where I entrapped him within my own web of deceit and seduction. The web so tight and encasing that even I was not sure who the father of my child was.

I would seduce Valentine by day but return to the arms of my Hojo every night. Each time, my scientist would claim me, as well, as if to mark me as his own, something that was already well ingrained into my head, no matter what he asked me to do. Some might say that would make me a slut or other unrefined slurs.

But they don't understand. It was all in the name of science. For the glory of science, I would sell my soul, and, in a sense, some might argue that I did.

Valentine was _necessary _for the experiments we planned to run. We needed an able body and a sound mind, and he was the perfect choice. He had already been trained in the ways of war and tactics. All he needed were some physical augmentations.

I don't know what changed in my husband. Perhaps he had always been that sadistic, something I hadn't noticed. But it became more than science for him, more than the truth and the results.

I would lay upstairs, completely bedridden and weak thanks to the child that was nearly due and the mako and Jenova that had been pumped into me, and listen to his cackling laughter as he worked his tests on the Turk. I knew what he was doing, and I was powerless to stop.

And the pain, gods the pain! Giving birth was something I would never wish to do again! It felt as if he were tearing the literal life out of me as he came into this world. I lay back on blood-soaked sheets and held out my arms to hold my son, but Hojo stormed in, grabbed up the grey-eyed child, and left the room, sparing me naught a glance and breaking my heart all in the same instance.

My world shattered. I wanted my son… I wanted my husband back. But I was ignored and left to die. Useless, no longer of any worth, that was what he had muttered as he left the room, eyes glinting in a way that reminded me of a time he had found a new test subject. And he had… in our Sephiroth.

Vincent… he doesn't know. With any luck he won't remember. Perhaps he might still love me somewhere in there, maybe I can still know the feeling of being loved. But if he knew…. if he ever found out what I had done, in the dark hours of the night or the dim hours of the morning, my efforts to reclaim a husband lost to sanity… he might never forgive.

Because you see… I was the perfect wife. Stood by my husband's side through everything… no matter what he said or did… I even helped him.

I had to, you see, I had to prove I was no longer useless, that I could still entertain him, that we were alike. And I must admit, the science intrigued me. How much pain could the human body withstand? If this much mako were absorbed, how would it react? What would the Jenova cells do when combated with this? And the demons, how would they merge with his body? It was all so fascinating.

But the arm… and the gauntlet… those were my idea. That's why I said, he could never find out. He doesn't know what I did….

The things I was injected with, like him, I will live for the Planet only knows how long, maybe forever. Perhaps that will be my punishment, to live alone without my child, my husband, or the man that had loved me.

The man that I had hurt, deceived, and desired… all in the name of love… and science.

---

So, anyone still hate Lucrecia? Or are we feeling sorry for her now?

Anxiously seeking reviews...


	3. Quoth the Raven, Nevermore

This is from Raven's POV. Raven was Vincent's partner as a Turk before the whole Lucrecia incident and isn't even an active character in Shattered Ice or Shattered Dreams; however, his POV is very important. It's going to give you some clues into Vincent's past and life as a Turk.

Warning: Disturbing imagery, blood, language, character death, etc. Not for the faint of heart.

**Episode 3: Quoth the Raven, Nevermore**

He was my best friend.

There wasn't anything more to it. From the moment he had first joined the Turks, when we were both rookies and just starting out in ShinRa, Vincent and I were always paired together. We balanced each other out perfectly. While I was studiously outgoing and demonstrative, he was quiet and contemplative. I was often considered the jokester of the group, and many people couldn't understand how he, with his reclusive ways, could handle being around me.

I think I was one of the few people who could draw a smile from him, even in his most downcast moods. I swear, Vincent was quite the moody guy. He was nearly always frowning, and he disappeared into his mind often. I wondered where it was he went when he did that and teased him every chance I got. He wasn't mean or cold completely, just contemplative.

I never knew about his parents or even his true name. And he never knew that mine wasn't Raven. That was how the Turks were. Who we were before, didn't matter. It was only important that our lives belonged to ShinRa. Anything else was null and void.

I admit, there were times I was jealous of my friend. He was better looking than me and a much better shot, but still, his personality left a little to be desired, though he never lacked for company. Kind of the bang 'em and leave 'em type, you know? As if he was afraid of getting really close to anyone. Not like me, ah, dear sweet Midori… I wonder if she waited for me, though I doubt it.

And Vincent didn't discriminate either, pretty boys, pretty girls, it didn't matter to him. As long as somewhere was there to fill his empty bed at night when he was feeling particularly lonely, though from the outside he seemed perfectly fine. Not that he was a particularly promiscuous man. Just that when he did meet someone, he never stayed with them long. Only I knew the truth, I could see through his barriers.

I never crossed that line with him, never wanted to. I was perfectly straight, thank you very much, although even I could admit that there was something undeniably addictive and attractive about my partner.

Like I said, we never spoke of life before the Turks, but I often wondered what made him so afraid like that. Sometimes… it even seemed he was afraid to be himself, as if any moment someone was going to berate him and tell him he was doing it all wrong, living his life improperly or some bullshit. Hmph. Like becoming a Turk was "anyone's" true desire in life.

He was a great Turk, cold and calculating to a fault, always one to follow the rules and finish the assignment or job no matter the situation or errs. He counted on me to watch his back, and I was never more proud than when he made commander. And who do you think he assigned as his second? Yours truly, of course! What can I say? Vincent was a good friend, though you couldn't tell it from a glance.

We used to go to bars together, he and I. While I would flirt with the ladies and flash my pearly whites, he would sit and contemplate over a beer and a smoke, nevertheless drawing a crowd of admirers and sycophants. It was always amusing to me, but he seemed oblivious to it all. Like he didn't know the true power he had with his looks and very air of "I don't give a damn". Girls and men alike were attracted to that.

I remember this one time, we went to a club, my rather sad attempt at trying to get him to loosen up a little and just enjoy life. It took several shots of whiskey before I could even convince to him to mingle, a few more before I got him on the dance floor. I hadn't expected much, after all, he was not a man used to going out a lot. But he surprised in the absolute daring way that he MOVED.

The man was a god on the dance floor, easily fluid in time with every pulse of the song. I could only stand on the side shell-socked as he appeared to lose himself to the thrumming of the guitar and the pounding pulse of the drums. I always knew my partner had a trick or two up his sleeve. I grinned and found a dancing girl beside me, pushing her in his direction. She was startled but instantly flushed when she looked at my partner, shyly joining in his dance.

Hmm, now that I think about it, they may have gone home together that night. Not that it mattered. But the past is past, and needless to say, Vince was the best friend I ever had. Or should I say Vincent? It had always been that way with him. No nicknames. He was an odd one like that. He claimed Vincent was his real name and would not be called by any falsities.

"I may work for ShinRa," he told me once. "But I am not ShinRa's dog." Stubbornly prideful, he was, and notoriously defiant.

That was, until Lucrecia came along.

I may have known from the moment that my partner laid eyes on the brunette scientist, who was lost on the thirty-second floor of the ShinRa building, that things weren't going to go so well. This intense feeling of foreboding had washed over me, and I couldn't help but frown, even as Vincent offered his arm to her and started to lead her towards an elevator. She had smiled up at him, flashing those perfectly even teeth as her brown eyes sparkled, and I knew then that he was hooked.

I thought it was luck when we dropped her off on the twentieth floor and promptly forgot she had ever existed. Thank goodness she was a scientist. They and Turks never interacted. There was no purpose behind it. Vincent never spoke of her, but I wonder if he always thought of her.

It wasn't until a half year later when he and I were sent to Nibelheim as guards for the scientists and some mysterious project; Dr. Hojo, Dr. Gast, and their assistant Dr. Crescent… otherwise known as Lucrecia, did I begin to think that there was a reason for my earlier thoughts of warning. For some reason, fate had thrown her into our path once more. I experienced that same feeling of mistrust and foreboding.

President ShinRa had originally given us the bullshit excuse for a mission because he was angry. Although Vincent always did as he was told, he was also blatantly stubborn. I can't even be sure what happened because the meeting was just between the two of them. All I knew was that when he came out, we had the bullshit mission, and he was trembling with barely contained fury. He never would tell me what had caused the President to be so thoroughly pissed, though I suspect it had something to do with Senai and Danano.

The two boys were twins, and the last surviving members of the Hanajima family. Vincent and I had been given the covert task of assassinating them. They were a new power company that was starting to rise, claiming that there was a more powerful energy source within Gaia's minerals and that only they knew what it was. The Hanajimas were a threat to ShinRa's business and the President did not like it. There were eight members in all, with Senai and Danano the youngest, only eight years old.

We had an easy time of it, the Hanajimas not being quite important enough to hire bodyguards just yet. I could tell Vincent was having a difficult time accepting his orders, however. I wonder how it felt to assassinate those that were from your own land? Although he never told me, I knew my partner was at least in part Wutaiian and the Hanajimas? Pure full-blood Wutaiian nobles…

But I think the part that affected Vincent the most was the order to kill the twins. They were frightened, understandably so, holding each other's hands as they stared at us with shimmering, scared stormy grey eyes so much like my partner's. My own hands were tight on my handgun as I looked at them and sweated, my heart going out to them. I may have been an assassin, but I wasn't heartless, it was just a job.

I saw Vincent's jaw tighten, his shoulder's stiffen as he appeared to resolve himself to his fate. One of the boys whimpered and clutched at his brother and that was the last straw. With a violent shake of his head, my partner slowly lowered his gun and latched the safety, placing it in the holster that he wore around his chest beneath the dark navy Turk suit jacket.

"Vincent?" I questioned softly, shooting him a glance.

"I won't do it," he answered without looking at me. "I won't shoot an innocent child. Fuck ShinRa's orders. I still have my humanity." He turned on his heels and headed for the door, ignoring the corpses of the child's parents that lay bleeding on the floor. We had shot them execution style, as a warning to any other businessmen who thought they could stand in ShinRa's way.

"What about them?" I asked gesturing towards the children. "If we leave them here alone, it will be just as if we had shot them in the face. They are only eight and know nothing of surviving in Midgar!"

He paused and appeared to think deeply for a moment before he reached into his pocket and pulled out his PHS. "I will let Leana handle them. They should be fine for ten minutes or so."

I couldn't help but gape at him. Not that I wanted to shoot those kids because really, it wasn't in me to do it. We had been working for ShinRa a long time, but had never had to kill a child before. Or anyone Wutaiian for that matter. Perhaps Vincent had decided that there were lines he would not cross. And I would have to agree with him.

So perhaps it was because of them that President ShinRa gave us over to Hojo. Vincent and I didn't even know at the time that it was all a ploy, that the scientists didn't need protectors… but specimens. The President was not partial to Turks that disobeyed his direct order, and he had apparently found out about the Hanajima twins.

Hojo told me later, right before he injected my body with a strange purplish-red substance, that the twins had been found and executed. I could only hope that he had enough decency to not tell Vincent. My partner thought he had saved the kids…

He was a good man. Hidden beneath the icy exterior of seemingly non-interest was a tender heart that yearned to be loved. It was always so obvious to me. The way that he treated me as a friend, despite our occupation was a dead give away. He cherished our friendship. It was one of the few important things to him.

One night he had gotten drink, ridiculously drunk, and he started talking. And once it began, it was like a flood of declarations and admittances. He told me that I was his best friend… someone he'd consider a brother.

I can't remember if I told him I felt the same.

Now I am locked inside this body that I can't control. Cursed because of the whims of a mad scientist. I don't know what he did to Vincent, could only hear the screams of pain and anguish. There were times I heard a baby crying as well… Lucrecia's child most likely.

I don't know what Hojo did to me either. In fact, my memory is fading more and more each day as I become more a monster and less the human I once was. My mind is starting to bond with this body, though I still can't control myself.

Every day and night the memories haunt me as I cannot sleep. I can't help but feel like there was something I should have done to save him. He was falling more and more into the pit of love for that woman and there was naught I could do but watch as he sank into the abyss. I felt so helpless...

It's been… thirty years since I was locked within this safe, guarding the contents… a rusty golden key and a strange item called Cosmo Memory. I knew what the key was intended for. It locked my partner's final resting place, a coffin in the dank and dusty basement that served as Hojo's lab. But the item? I could only guess that it belonged to something else of Hojo's though Kami forbid the man have any other creature within his slimy grasp…

I can hear the turn of the dial now, each tiny click causing this body I can't control to tremble in anticipation. It's ready to tear apart the intruders, ready to cast its magic on them and watch as the burn and die. As for me and my own mind, it's been so long since I saw the sun… felt a cool breeze against my face or even heard the tender notes of music.

I laugh sardonically, the sound hollow and going no further than my own thoughts. I doubt they will get it right. Not many have. I can only feel pity for the poor fools that believe in the treasure of the dilapidated ShinRa mansion. This safe has been opened before, and each time this body of mine has torn their's apart, despite my protests.

Hojo claimed I was a failed experiment because I couldn't keep my human form. He wouldn't have been able to know that I kept my own mind. I'm sure it would have amused him completely if he had known the sick fuck.

There is so little of me left now. Just these few scattered memories and tattered emotions. It's like I am spiraling down towards the blackness with nowhere to turn… all alone.

A small click and the door swings open. I spot a glimpse of three battle ready warriors, none looking afraid at what they see. My body roars in outrage attacking them, but they are too quick, too powerful.

I can feel every attack… I can feel every burst of magic exploding on my body and I can't help but feel like I should be thanking them for saving me from my torment. Only in death will I find peace, only in death can I be human once more.

As the blond guy with the outrageous sword leaps for the final death blow, my last prayer is that they find my partner and rescue him, too. Neither of us deserved Hojo's cruelty, Hojo's demented mind.

I only wished that I had gotten to see him before I died. That I could have apologized for my weakness and faults. I should have done something.

A flash of light… a burst of pain and this physical body of mine is no more. A smile, a genuine smile breaks out in my inner mind, and I can see something green and glowing with hands reaching, guiding… encouraging me to come.

They whisper words of love and hope, peace and tranquility. No more pain, no more sorrow, no more death… nevermore.

----

Kind of sad but fitting…

So how's that for a glimpse into Vincent's past?


	4. Paternity Paradox

A lot of what is explained here does not seem to directly coincide with Shattered Ice or Shattered Dreams, but it in fact does. This story line is meant to be a bonus storyline, some facts will only be revealed here and nowhere else.

Also, you have to remember, everything is written as if from a memory, people recalling something. There are bound to be discrepancies. After all, how many of us can remember an event that accurately, recalling each and every word in proper succession?

Warning for some disturbing imagery

Sephiroth's POV

**Episode 04: Paternity Paradox**

What is there to say about I man I have never actually met? The only true and clear memory I have of him is the final battle. It was him that turned into the creature that destroyed me. Though I do distinctly remember my 'father' – Hojo – mumbling about a man named Valentine. Also, when searching the many texts and research notes in the library before the incident, the name Vincent Valentine came up several times.

I suppose that is what the two of us have in common. Our lives were ruined by the insane dictations of one man. I, for simply being the unlucky one to be granted the dishonor of being Hojo's son; he, for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I cannot think of a person who has ever been happy for crossing paths with Dr. Hojo.

In fact, I don't think I even connected the man 'Valentine' from Hojo's notes to the man that fought along side my former subordinate until I saw him transform in battle. It was then that I knew… this man suffered from that scientist's taint. To be honest, it was somewhat gratifying to be killed by one such as he. As if he were doing me a favor by ridding me of my life; I would have done him the same courtesy.

Yet, the thing that puzzled me the most, what I pondered on for my three months spent in the Lifestream after that battle was the last thing Vincent Valentine said to me before he ended my life. Even in that form, in those startling coal crimson eyes, there was a slight trace of humanity, and it was that part of him that forced through the madness to speak one phrase to me.

With the killing blow, his eyes locked onto mine, and for a brief moment time stopped. The insane laughter and derision disappeared from his tone, even after he had exclaimed that I had no choice but to die.

"Forgive me…" he spoke, in a voice that sounded nothing like what belonged in that body. "Should have been mine…"

Before I could remark anything, he removed his claw from my beaten and battered body, eyes again clouding over with hatred and maniac glee. He cackled loudly as I slumped to the ground, and my vision faded before he turned and began to taunt those that had come to defeat me.

That was the last I saw of Vincent Valentine. I assume him to be dead, much like I was. Then again, if I can return to life in atonement thanks to Gaia, what is to stop him, the reluctant hero?

Yet, it was his words that stuck with me, his words that puzzled me again and again. I mulled over them as my consciousness floated in the Lifestream, occasionally passed by those that had gone before. I was alone even then, as I had been much of my life growing up… because of who I was, what was to be expected of me, ostracized and set apart; it was the life I knew… before Zack entered my life and became the only true friend I ever knew.

"Forgive me," he had said.

For what reason?

Forgive his killing of me? Would the others he fought with agree to the same? Would they have apologized as well? After what I had done to them, after what I and Jenova had put them through and caused them sufferance, I highly doubt they would feel the need to apologize for taking my life.

Why this man? This dark-haired stranger that suffered through the same fate as me, that was tainted by one sick and twisted man, whose work could not even be called science. What was it about Vincent Valentine that he felt the need to make amends for his actions?

I read the notes in the ShinRa mansion; I knew what had been done to him.

It would have taken him great lengths to revert to that control, as deep beneath the conscious of the Apocalypse demon as he had been buried. Why did he waste his last strength, his last will power to break through and speak those words? I wondered if we were connected in a way that I didn't understand, and I hated Hojo even more for what he had done.

Although I did not know this stranger, I was outraged on his behalf. I know of that man's cruel nature and his imaginative mind, especially considering punishment and discipline. Hojo was a man to be hated, despised, and he deserved nothing more than the death he had been given.

"Should have been mine…" Those words were even more confusing than the previous claim. I couldn't help but question what exactly he meant.

What belonged to him? Did I have something that was once his? Was there an even deeper connection between us than I had originally guessed?

The implications were astronomical.

The answers were no less understandable than the first. I spent much time mulling over what I had learned when I was in that mansion, replaying my childhood over and over, as if I could recall one little tidbit, one little memory that might explain the enigmatic words of my killer.

At first, I drew a blank, recalling nothing of life as a child but pain and loneliness, a haunting, mocking voice and always been cold and somewhat hungry. I remembered the mako injections and the tests, always the tests. So many of them I couldn't count the days as they all faded from one to the next.

I recall that the mako always burned, feeling as if there was a flame within me, blazing away my veins from the inside out. I would writhe in pain, screaming, and sobbing when I was younger, as I was shackled to the lab table. They were afraid I would fall to the ground and hurt myself… as if what was already being done wasn't agony enough.

I quickly learned that crying and screaming had no effect, only earned me words of encouragement such as 'you are pitiful' or 'becoming such a failure'. Yet, even as I recalled what I had gone through, outrage filling my soul, as well as an innate desire to kill the man who had been my father in name only, other insane mutterings and mumblings became clearer.

Through the haze and the pain, the training and endless nights of lying awake in dread of what was to come, I somehow knew that I was not alone in my sufferings. Even as a young child, I was always bright, quick to learn and understand, quick to comprehend and figure out my surroundings. It was at three when I first heard it, the faint sound, barely a whisper that carried through the vents. And by the age of four, I heard it no more.

At the time I had attributed the sounds to an active imagination, being afraid of the monsters in the dark, ones that were possibly even worse than the ones I faced daily. Certainly, I knew enough to fear such monsters, I had one for a father, and I dare say, true creatures would have probably been more appealing.

However, now that I think about it, I realize it was the sound of a man muttering to himself, words that I didn't understand sometimes, and in other moments, words that rang clearer to me than anything, though they made little sense.

'Lucia', 'the winged darkness', and 'scarlet dreams of me' were some of the more common, though I can't say even now that I know what they mean. Although some of them, recalling the Vincent Valentine that had killed me, seemed to relate to him.

I wondered if the voice I heard in the night, crying softly to myself in my sleep, the voice I heard that gave me comfort simply because I was not alone, was the same man – the one who had suffered at Hojo's hands. It was a possibility given the timeline, and thoughts of that voice invariably brought me to a memory of a day that I thought I would never forget but inevitably had because of the frightening experience I had associated with it.

Then I realized, I did know Vincent Valentine. Though at the time, I didn't know him by that name or form. I only knew him as the dark beast that must atone for his sins because he killed my mother. I was so young then, not even four yet, too young to be seeing the sights Hojo put before me. In fact, I was always too young for anything I was subjected to.

Yet, this day, that I thought I would never forget, is now refreshed in my mind. I was told I was to have a lesson but of what, he never explained. I simply took his words at face value and followed the oddly grinning scientist as he led me into one of the back corners of the lab, a place I never dared tread as it was always locked. To be honest, I feared that room. It was where he performed his experiments on recombining monsters; sometimes, I could hear them.

He mumbled to himself as we walked, though I mostly tuned him out.

I remember shaking in fright, believing that he was going to throw me to the creatures and expect me to fight my way out, or perhaps he truly thought I was a failure after all. Either way, I was frightened, and rightly so.

I remember he showed me a cage, enclosed by thick glass and within it were a few monsters, nothing but some Nibel wolves. They weren't particularly scary. He pushed me towards the glass, indicating I should watch as he moved to the control panel and selected a button. A panel within the room slid open revealing a wretch of the man, at least, at the time I thought it was a man. His hair was long and scraggly, his body a mass of bruises and injuries, and he stumbled, looking very gaunt and thin. I thought for sure that he would be killed.

He kept his head down, his face hidden to me behind a curtain of dark hair. The wolves snarled before attacking, leaping at him unarmed and undefended. I thought for sure, he was going to die. Until I saw the rippling of his flesh as he changed into something grotesque and monster-like, ripping into the Nibel wolves with such fury and blood lust that I took several steps back from the glass, eyes wide in surprise and horror.

Hojo was muttering as he turned to him, laughing at my shocked expression. "This is what happens if you try to take what belongs to me, Sephiroth," he said to me. "This man tried to steal you, and your mother, invariably killing her in his jealousy."

I did not respond. I couldn't. There was nothing to say. I felt sick on my stomach and so I let it out, vomiting all over his clean floor and staring with frightened eyes at the beast in the room, stalking around as if searching for more prey.

The memory is so clear in my mind now; I wonder how I had forgotten it. Perhaps it was Jenova that did something to me, that woman who I now know was not my mother. Hojo's words of thievery…

The last whispered words of a man who claimed… "Should have been mine…"

I wondered if when he said that, he meant my mother and I. Is it possible that Hojo was not my true father? This thievery that he spoke of… did Vincent succeed? It would certainly explain that man's hatred of Valentine, and perhaps a little of his hatred of me. But why lie? Why tell me he is my father? What can I believe; what could I trust?

I wanted to hope that my lineage did not include one Hojo, but I was also trying to be realistic. He would gain nothing from lying to me… then again, he had lied about my true mother. It was possible that he was lying about his fatherhood. However, he would be proud if it were true; he would gloat over it, making it seem as if he had accomplished something.

There was nothing in the notes. Nothing in the papers in the basement that spoke of my lineage. Not even some that confirmed that Hojo was my father.

So do those words – forgive me – should have been mine – do those words have any bearing on who I am, on my family?

I cannot say. It is a paradox. Who can understand the mind behind the monster that was Dr. Hojo?

I know nothing of Vincent Valentine, save that he was a man ruined by Hojo. Yet, I can guess that he was once a good man, a man that loved and hated, had dreams and goals, a family, and wanted a better life for himself and those he cared for. I can assume that he wasn't the type of man that wanted to have his life ruined by Hojo, and I can speculate that he was someone who understood what it meant when something needed to be done.

I can guess that he was an honest man; someone who knew the right thing to do and didn't shy away from following his path, and if I know anything of the products of Hojo's labors, he probably curses his own existence every day of his life, much as I did mine.

Like me, he would find someone that would make it all seem worthwhile, that there was a light at the end of the torture tunnel, like Zack – my best friend and brother – was for me.

I would like to believe that I know him from his actions, this man that could be my father. I would like to think that maybe he and I have more in common than Hojo's taint.

Yet, I suppose, some questions are better left unanswered.

----

Review, please. I am interested in what you think.


	5. Distorted Reflections

Cloud's POV

**Episode 05: Distorted Reflections**

He was one of us, dammit!

And always had been, even from the beginning. He belonged in our group, fitting in to balance us out. I have to admit, we were all a little screwy in the head somehow, so Vincent with his guilt obsession was no different.

I knew from the moment we opened that coffin, and found a man rather than some sort of weapon or materia, that there was something to be feared about Vincent Valentine. Not only his appearance, though scarlet eyes and a golden sharp-as-fuck claw were fright-inducers, but also because he knew /something/ but wasn't explaining anything. All he wanted was to kill Hojo.

That I could understand. I don't think I have ever met someone who actually liked the sick bastard. Hojo wasn't even worthy of being human… nothing less than the scum on the bottom of my ShinRa-issued military boots.

Vincent was an enigma to me, although I almost felt that we were alike. He was more often than not silent. He watched us with those crimson eyes, his face betraying no emotions. He preferred to be alone, much like I did at times, and I envied him for being allowed that freedom. I had no such luck. I was the leader. Everyone was my responsibility.

I won't say that I expected the two of us to be close friends in the beginning. At most, he tolerated the presence of AVALANCHE, while we tried to understand and not fear him.

I think I knew from day one that he was powerful. I kept him in a group with me just to keep an eye on him, and I think I nearly died of surprise the first time he changed in battle. My jaw gaped as I watched him transform into some purplish-horned monster and start tearing apart the enemies. Aeris and I just stood back, observing in awe and a little bit of horror as the beasts were quickly destroyed. We almost expected him to turn on us.

But afterwards, he turned and looked at us. I noticed Aeris had gone pale, and I grimly reached for my sword handle, thinking I would have to destroy him. Vincent's eyes flashed once, still that god-awful red, before his creature-form darted off into the surrounding mountains. I thought he was running away. Aeris told me he was just ashamed. I'm more inclined to believe her at this point because my frame of mind wasn't exactly stable.

He came back later that night, when Nanaki was on watch. I don't know what the two of them discussed exactly since I woke up halfway through. I confronted him, wanting to know if he was going to be a danger to us. He flinched at that, about the only time I had ever seen him betray any emotion, but he quickly regained his composure as he responded rather coldly.

"I don't know what ills I suffered while under Hojo's knife but I would never harm a teammate," he hissed at me before turning his back on the two of us.

I let it go at that. He seemed sincere enough, and he was right. In later battles, when we fought, although he transformed, he never attacked us and would always revert back soon after. Even during the battle with the Materia Keeper, I once saw him take a hit for Aeris. He wasn't the seemingly cold block of ice as he tried to present himself as.

But even so, I still somewhat feared him. That was probably what caused the dissension between us. He recognized within me the same Hojo-taint that was within him. I think he believed that the sick bastard might have brainwashed me – though I don't disregard the possibility – at the same time that I thought Hojo might still have control over him. We were both suspicious of each other, even when we should have been trying to be helpful.

In my frame of mind at the time, I couldn't really understand all of the reasons why Vincent Valentine made me angry or why I didn't trust him. It wasn't anything he had done specifically, and every man has a right to act the way he chooses, even if it was to be a quiet and cold bastard… but it may have been because I initially thought him attractive.

I had always been someone that considered both sexes of interest, probably why Sephiroth had been an obsession. The man was the very embodiment of sex, though he acted as if he didn't know. Vincent was the same way, that ethereal beauty, though masculine he was, and still he thought he was ugly, a tainted product of Hojo. Not that I blame him.

Somehow I knew that there was something different about the ex-Turk, like a foreboding feeling I had right before I opened that coffin. I knew that nothing would be the same the minute I pushed up the lid and found crimson eyes staring back at me. It was frightening, and he was anything but considerate and kind as he spoke to us. Rude was probably the more proper word.

In the beginning, both he and I misunderstood one other equally. He believed I feared him, perhaps he was right. More than anything, I feared Hojo and what that man was capable of. I thought Vincent cold and quiet. He thought me brash and stupid. Maybe we both were wrong. I can't really say.

The gunman was most definitely an enigma but still an integral part of our team. He was a brilliant shot with his guns, far better than Barret's as-many-bullets-as-it-takes philosophy. Heh. Now that I think about it, that might have been why Barret was always ridiculing Vincent, calling him vampy and believing him to be a spy. Then again, Barret was rather thick-headed, though some might say that's a pot trying to call a kettle black…

When I finally felt I could trust him, I listened to what Vincent had to say in terms of battle. Other than Reeve, whose training was just as dated as the ex-Turk's, Valentine was the only other one of us who knew anything of military. Just another matter that we had in common; it also made us at odds.

But I was never more surprised when I started to believe that Cid and he had something going on. I had realized from the beginning of course that Vincent had sort of attached himself to the gruff pilot; I don't know why someone like him would enjoy the blond's presence. Sometimes Cid could be annoying, and Barret and he were both constantly trying to win the 'who-can-curse-more' award.

It didn't shock me so much that Vincent had chosen someone to be his friend – no one's an island – but it was the fact that he would choose someone like Cid. If anyone, I thought he would turn to Nanaki; I mean, of all of us Red is probably the most learned other than Reeve, who came much later.

I don't know when I realized that they were more than friends. Nor do I know when it first happened, though I suspect Gold Saucer had something to do with it. I saw them talking when Aeris dragged me out for our first D-A-T-E. Heh, that amusement park seems to have a knack for bringing people together. I think I even saw Barret and Yuffie playing games in the Wonder Square and arguing as Nanaki watched on with amusement. It was nice to take a break for that short time.

I never thought that their relationship would become what it had. I never knew that love would be a factor. I remember the day that Vincent went nuts and Cid kissed him; I mean, how could I forget? Barret made such a big fucking deal out of it, like I cared what people did in their free time.

Vincent being the sacrifice, giving his life to take down Sephiroth. I never knew that was the price to pay. No one should have died. We had already done so much to clean up ShinRa's mistakes; why should we – the heroes – have to be the ones to sacrifice. Aeris should have never died, and Vincent shouldn't have had to change to Chaos.

Cid… I just don't know if he's going to make it honestly. He loved him – the cold ex-Turk. The pilot loved him. I don't know if Vincent returned the affection, but I suspect so. Never an odder couple have I seen… except perhaps the romance between Reeve and Reno. I NEVER saw THAT one coming.

I hate to admit it, but I can't help but believe that Vincent is dead. I cannot believe otherwise because I saw him fall into the crater; I saw Diablos and he grappling as they fell into the Lifestream. He should have turned up by now, like I had… I am sure he had his reasons for making his choice, but I wish that he could see Cid now, see how much the pilot is slowly dying on the inside. Without Vincent, I don't think we are going to have Cid for much longer. I can only hope that Cid's belief's lead to something substantial.

I had long suspected that Vincent knew more of Sephiroth's origins than he led on. Lucrecia, who was the former General's mother, Vincent knew her personally – if his guilt complex was any indication. I wondered if Hojo had perhaps stolen her from him, or was it the other way around?

The possibility that Sephiroth could have been Vincent's child never even occurred to me. It wasn't until Aeris and I were talking one day, and she mentioned something, that it became something substantial in my mind. I'm not sure what to think about that.

I believe now that I understand why Vincent and I were always at odds in the beginning, why it took so long for me to trust him, and why it took for long for him to put his faith in me.

Put this way… I look in the mirror and I see mako eyes. I see someone whose life has been tainted by Hojo. I see a man whose memory is scattered and fractured, whose thoughts might no longer be his own. I see someone who is afraid of what could have happened and what may occur. I see a person who hates one mad scientist and was glad for revenge. I see someone who loves and feels grateful each day that that love was found.

I look in the mirror and I see Vincent staring back at me, though a somewhat distorted view of him.

Didn't someone once say that the person a man most fears is himself? I could swear I had heard that somewhere, but that is my explanation. Vincent saw a bit of himself within me, just as I saw a piece of my own tattered psyche in him.

We were connected by our pasts and our futures, our distorted reflections, I suppose is what I would call it. Certainly seems to fit.

In the end, we were friends, allies, comrades. I trusted him with the fate of those that meant the most to me, even the woman I had promised myself to. And he hadn't let me down. It was Vincent that took down Sephiroth, he who took the place of the woman I loved.

I don't think I ever really hated him. I'm not even sure I ever really feared him. Who can say what I was truly feeling then, locked up in my miseries and delusions?

I hope he is out there somewhere. I hope that he is alive, for Cid's sake more than anything. The others miss him, too.

Nanaki misses his debate partner. Yuffie misses the man she used to annoy and torment. Aeris misses his quiet solitude and calming presence. Reeve misses a man who was slowly becoming his friend. Reno was hoping for some pointers, I believe. Barret wanted a chance to apologize. Marlene wanted to thank him. And I wanted to make amends, prove to him that he was one of us, as we all really believed.

I wanted to show him that my reflection's changed. That I no longer saw what I used to see.

And that if he looked hard enough… he would see that his had as well.


	6. Crimson Thorn

Aeris' POV

**Episode 06: Crimson Thorn**

I always knew there was more to him than we originally thought.

He had the look of a man haunted by his past, though he refused to let it rule him or his future. He wanted revenge for what had been done to him and 'Lucrecia'. Against a man like Hojo, that I can understand.

He wasn't a freak or monster, just another man – human in my opinion – who had suffered the Hojo taint. He was a quiet person, not shy or withdrawn, just stoic. He didn't waste words, which was a pleasant change from Barret's rambling.

Of course, considering what he had been through, it came as no surprise that he was withdrawn. Locked in a coffin for thirty years after being in Hojo's care would do that to a person. We let him out, and he entered into a world that was different from his own, thirty years worth of difference.

He was among strangers, every one of us technically younger than him and looking very battle experienced. Barret immediately was uneasy around him and – in typical Barret-fashion, as I soon learned – became blustery and loud. He was the first to give Vincent the nickname Vampy, short for vampire.

Yuffie was quick to pick up on this and consistently called the poor man that just to be aggravating. It was completely idiotic and wrong of them to name him as such. Vincent displayed no signs of being such a creature, not that vampires are necessarily bad… but that is a story for another time.

Regardless, Barret feared him, his look and quiet presence, and that was enough.

Our reactions to Vincent's appearance were all different. Yuffie was initially curious, staring at him with mouth slightly agape and her fingers twitching as if she couldn't wait to delve into his pockets. She was introduced, and he said nothing, even when she smiled up at him guilelessly. He only acknowledged her with a slight, nearly imperceptible nod of the head.

Nanaki seemed speculative, I remember. He and I along with Cloud were the ones to open the coffin. During Vincent's entire explanation of who he was and subsequent joining of our quest, I recall the lion-wolf – now demi-human – was always regarding him with an expression of… understanding, possibly.

It could have been something more. Not quite the blatant curiosity of Yuffie, but something entirely different. The two of them didn't speak much, but it was obvious – to me at least – that Nanaki was looking forward to talking to the ex-Turk, as if they had much in common. Perhaps they did.

I can't really say what Cait Sith's reaction was. After all, he was just a cat sitting on top of a stuffed moogle. He was cheerful, however, greeting the new arrival with a wave of his paws and a small toot of his megaphone. I always wondered how he was able to fight with such a weapon.

I think it was Cloud's reaction that shocked me the most. At first, it was interest over a new companion. Then it grew to thinly veiled suspicion. As if he knew something about Vincent the rest of us did not. It wasn't that Cloud didn't like him, more like he knew there was something to be wary about. Perhaps it was because he knew of Hojo's madness and feared it. I can't be certain.

My own reaction… heh. I was surprised at first to open up a coffin and find a man inside, and an ethereal beauty at that. I never thought I would ever call a man beautiful, but there was something about Vincent Valentine that brought the word to mind.

His eyes, though an unnatural crimson, were like shining jewels, and his hair was so black, so ebony that it nearly disappeared in the dark. He was very pale, as if he had never seen the sun a day in his life, and it contrasted perfectly with the darkness of his hair. The lines of his face were soft rather than hard and muscular, and he wasn't exactly built like Barret or Cid. More thin, much like Cloud.

I won't say that I was instantly attracted to him because even then I was beginning to feel something for Cloud, but I did feel instantly inferior in his presence. I couldn't help but self-consciously pat my own plain reddish-brown hair. He looked up at us, not with surprise, but with something that seemed more like resignation. As if he knew the coffin was going to be opened at some point and guessed what would happen when it did.

"You'll dream about bad things if you sleep in a place like this." That was what I had told him when he first opened his eyes, after Cloud had so smartly informed him that he had been having a nightmare.

Cloud… I really liked him, but at the time, his intellect left much to be desired.

Vincent had scoffed at the idea of dreaming of bad things. I got a sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach. As if nightmares were all that he dreamt about as he laid there. He had responded as if they were nothing new, as if he… deserved to remember such awful memories and relieve terrifying moments. It was something that I couldn't understand.

So I told him so.

"So your punishment was to sleep?" I questioned him. "That's strange."

And indeed, to me it was. He spoke of atonement, of making amends for his sins, for his wrong doings. Yet, for the life of me, I couldn't understand what he had done that was so terrible, nor could I comprehend how sleeping would be a punishment. Then again, the idea of living your nightmares every day until you drew your last breath did seem like a good way to penalize someone.

Until I realized that he had done nothing worthy of guilt. Slowly over time, as his story came to light, I understood that there was much about Vincent Valentine that we didn't understand, including his seeming immortality. I imagine that if we had not found him, he would have been sleeping forever, consumed in his guilt and reliving his nightmares over and over.

I shivered at the thought.

What had driven him to the point of believing he deserved such a thing?

It didn't seem like he was going to leave the coffin. I didn't relish the thought of leaving him behind. I wanted him to come with us. I wanted him to leave the coffin and the stuffy basement, stop sleeping with his nightmares. I have a kind heart, and sometimes, I can see through people. I can see what they need and how to help. And Vincent Valentine did not need to spend all eternity within that coffin. However, no matter how much we spoke to him, he kept repeating "go away."

With nothing further to say, we turned from the room and left him. I couldn't help but feel as if we were leaving something important behind. I heard the whispers of the Planet across the back of my mind, but I didn't understand them. Confusion was evident on my face, and I could see it on Cloud and Nanaki's, too.

And then, just as we closed the door behind us and started back towards the staircase, it opened again, and he appeared. Vincent wanted to know if he would meet Hojo, if he joined our crew.

Hojo… the name sent shivers down my own spine as I'm sure it did for my friends. That man had his slimy grip on everything it seemed and had angered many, including Vincent. If he would meet Hojo, he would join with us. That is what he said.

"That sure is a quick change of heart…" I remarked, surprised that he would change his mind so quickly.

His gaze instantly landed on me, crimson eyes peering. It was almost inquisitive the way he looked, and my breath caught in my throat. It wasn't fear that grabbed me but something entirely different. As if in that one glance, I felt every pain, heard every tear. It was painful, and I knew then that I wanted to help him, in any way that I could.

"It shall be atonement," he had said, in a voice barely more than a whisper. In fact, I wasn't even sure he said it aloud.

Cloud allowed him to join our group, despite the suspicions I am sure he felt. If I were him, I would have been somewhat apprehensive as well. As much as he had told us to go away… but then came anyway. Knowing Hojo and his sick mind, I can understand our leader's carefulness.

I couldn't help but wonder what had happened to Vincent. I mused as to why he had been placed in the coffin and how long he had been there. The mansion had been abandoned for who knows how many years, and Cloud never mentioned someone being in the mansion when those events happened five years ago. Could he have been there since before that time… or maybe after? Yet, he looked far too young and healthy to have been in it a long time.

It was only later that I found out he had been sleeping for thirty years. Most of his life had been spent in a box of death, surrounded by dust and spiders, alone and forgotten in the basement of a decrepit mansion. I wanted to help him, the soft-hearted part of me wanted to reach out and heal the pain that I found in him. I just didn't know how. It wasn't until after Cid arrived that I saw something that was building… something that would aid him where I could not.

I'll be forever grateful to the stoic man, who hid his pain. I didn't know when I made the decision to leave on my own and pray for Holy that it wasn't going to be my sacrifice. I only knew that I had to do something before Sephiroth destroyed the mind of the man I had come to slowly but surely love.

I never would have guessed that the Planet had other plans in mind when Vincent awoke from his sleep. I know he believed it to be his redemption, but he never truly understood that it wasn't his fault.

I think we as humans have that drive in us, that desire to live as we see fit, trying to be the best we can be. I think it is inherent, the piece of us that is alive. I know that no matter how much I ran from ShinRa, how much I missed my mother or just tried to go on, that I never gave up. I was convinced that life still held something happy for me.

And eventually, I found him. I found it in Cloud.

But Vincent… he runs on a different course. That drive… it had been taken from him, in one of the worst ways. Hope had been stolen from him. Hope and dreams, Hojo had taken those from him. He kept going though.

I've always seen him as a rose. One of the strongest and most beautiful flowers on Gaia, the red rose. You stop to smell one, realize it has this potent heady scent, and you think, 'I would love to have one of my own.'

So you reach out to pluck its fragile beauty, reach to take it home only to find that the flower has thorns; it's not as defenseless as you think. That's Vincent.

Hojo made a gross error when he tried to destroy the soul of one Vincent Valentine. And in the end it came back to bite him on the ass.

It was no more than he deserved.

Every rose is fragile even in its strength, despite its crimson thorns, and Vincent eventually found his happiness, too. It gave him what he needed to face that final end. It was something that I couldn't do, no matter how much I wanted to. Or Cloud or Yuffie… or Nanaki even.

As cliché as I hate to be, it was something more like love. I am positive that in the end, it will be love that finds him… because I don't believe he is dead. I know that if I can return from the other side and Cloud can survive the Life stream, then a man like Vincent, who fought through Hojo's madness, can find it in himself to come back as well.

After all, someone's waiting for him, and Vincent is not one to forget his responsibilities.

… And the beauty of the crimson rose will continue to grow.


	7. Here There Be Monsters

Nanaki's POV

**Episode 7: Here There be Monsters**

Vincent was an enigma, and from the moment we opened the coffin and found a man, alive at that, I wanted to understand him.

He didn't speak much at first, which made sense considering what had occurred to him. He had spent a long time locked away after being subjected to Hojo and his tortures. That would make anyone never want to speak again.

The ex-Turk kept to himself, and he didn't sleep much either. At night, I could hear him tossing about restlessly in the tent, even before he started sharing it with Cid. That man snored with all the force of a train, so whether or not it was his fault as well after he joined, I cannot say.

And if Vincent wasn't attempting to sleep, or he grew annoyed at tossing about, he would come out and sit by the fire, staring contemplatively into the flames. I grew to know him best during the darkest hours of the night, as if it were safer for him to speak then. He even grew bold enough, I should say, to sit close to me now and pet my head. I may be a lion wolf with human intelligence, but I do enjoy the occasional scratch. After all, humans have this thing with touching each other, don't they?

Vincent sometimes spoke in riddles, circuitously approaching a question and leading me about. He did answer it, but it was not until later that I finally comprehended all of what he had said. It was amusing that way we would spout what Cid would call "nonsensical bullshit" at each other. It was how we understood… how we coped.

After a time, he spoke more plainly, although I did have to pry the information out of him. I learned of Hojo and Lucrecia… perhaps he trusted me because I knew the horror of being in the scientist's lab myself. I think that I was his first true friend among those of us, long before we met Cid.

Maybe it was because of our rapport we developed that Vincent came to me, the first time that he changed. It wasn't so much that it surprised him, or that he was afraid, as much as it was he was angry. Furious with Hojo for his lack of humanity… and anger at himself for being too weak to stop him and do anything to help either himself or Lucrecia.

"I'm no longer human," he had murmured, speaking aloud but not necessarily to me. "Hojo has taken even that from me."

On the night that this occurred, I still did not know much of him; he hadn't really expressed much of what had happened, but he returned in the dead of the night when the others were sleeping, as if he only wanted to see me first… because I would understand. Perhaps he thought that the others feared him now, hated him even, and didn't want to see their pity or their revulsion. It is a feeling I can understand… I would have done the same.

He fell silent for a moment, after speaking that enigmatic phrase. He stared into the fire as if mesmerized, the golden flame almost reflecting in his crimson-amber eyes as he almost unconsciously reached out to pet my head. I accepted the affection, knowing it was a form of comfort that he needed far more than I ever did.

"I'm nothing more than a monster now," he murmured once more, body slumping only slightly as he hid more behind that covering cloak. "But such is my penance." And with that, he didn't say anything else.

I knew that he did not come to speak to me because he wanted to be comforted by words. He did not want pity or idle consolation either. He didn't want the truth to be bent or skewed so that his pride could be soothed. I may not have been that old or as well-learned as my grandfather, but there were some things that were instinct. I knew he did not want me to speak pretty, petty thoughts.

He likely did not want me to say anything at all but let him suffer in silence. Maybe it was my quiet yet calm understanding he craved. He did not want to hear that everything was going to be fine and work out. Nor did he want to be told not to worry or not think about it. If I had spoken the plain truth, he would have scoffed. No, what he wanted was to be told in the same way he spoke, approaching the truth in a circuitous fashion that made him believe it for himself.

He came to me, and I felt a small measure of pride in me for that. Vincent wanted to talk to someone, and he waited until the time was right to come to me. I knew that I had to say something, that I couldn't waste his trust in me. Despite his seemingly placid exterior with the barely hidden anger boiling beneath, I knew that there were other emotions buried deep within, among them sadness and revulsion. He hated what he had become.

I am not human, though as of now in my current form I cannot say what I actually am. However, Vincent, he was. Hojo's experimentations had done nothing to change that. After transforming into this demonic beast, he had returned to his original form, and it wasn't as if he had attacked his allies. Somehow, he had retained his measure of humanity. That was what separated him from being a monster.

I waited long enough for him to think that I wasn't going to say anything before sighing softly, idly twitching my tail. "You say you are a monster," I commented, merely restating his own phrase. "And so, I cannot help but wonder what that makes me. I am not human, and this form, this body holds a power that humans cannot. It isn't natural to them…" I trailed off, not explaining any further, as if I had a sudden epiphany about the nature of my being. I waited for him to absorb my words.

Here there be monsters, and the monsters were us.

He didn't speak for a moment, mulling over my words. The only sound between us was the crackling of the fire and my tail swishing over the somewhat rocky ground of the Nibel Mountain Range. Cloud had us rest for the evening, on the off chance that Vincent decided to return. He had shown remarkably decent foresight for once on that matter, which almost counter balanced the fact that his abysmal sense of direction had caused us to wander through the mountains for weeks.

Barret had of course, argued against it, afraid that the 'vampy' would kill them all, but Cloud was adamant that Vincent was not a threat, as if he knew something we did not. I am only glad that the ex-Turk was not here to hear that argument… or perhaps he had from afar; I can't be certain.

I don't know how long we sat there in silence, but finally, he sighed softly to himself, straightening his back and lifting his head. His eyes had cleared, no longer brewing with the sadness I had sensed, and the vague feelings of revulsion were gradually fading. He stretched mildly before unfolding his limbs and rising to his feet.

"You are of a clan, Nanaki," he said slowly, as if by way of apology. "You have intelligence and morals, a monster you are most assuredly not, despite your lupine appearance."

And with that, he turned and headed for the small tent that he shared with no one. Someone had taken the time to set it up for him. Aeris and Yuffie most likely, the flower-girl probably guilting the little ninja into doing it. I wondered if he truly understood what I was trying to tell him, if his own words to comfort me even reached his ears.

The next day, Cloud seemed unsurprised that Vincent had returned, and once again, showing a surprisingly large amount of tact, he did not make a big deal out of it. He didn't call Vincent or even say anything, only shot Barret a hard look for glaring suspiciously at the ex-Turk. And with that we were on our way again, heading towards Rocket Town.

It wasn't until the next day, after the battle with Materia Keeper when we were forced so quickly into another, that I received my answer. We were all tired and worn when we were ambushed by a group of Nibel wolves. It was a pack, nearly a dozen, and the most of us were injured and still recovering.

Five had tackled him before any of us could react, dealing with our own enemies. He hit his Limit Break as he thrashed beneath them, glowing a dark purple before becoming the horned Galian Beast. He tore into the wolves, easily destroying them all before we could even move.

When there were no more enemies, he stood still as if surveying the battlefield. Cloud half expected him to run off again, I wondered what he would do. He turned towards us, his demon form still present, but I found no fear within me when he did so, despite Yuffie's startled gasp and Barret's muttered curse.

It was his eyes… they remained the ones that I knew. That crimson-amber stared at me. With a slight nod of his head that I may have imagined, his body glowed again, and he shivered, returning to this human form, all of his wounds healed. I wish I had such a power.

I think perhaps that was how I knew in the crater, that when Chaos took over, Vincent was no longer in control. I looked at the winged demon that was the ex-Turk's final form, and in his eyes, I saw madness and destruction, disorder and unruliness. His eyes were a coal crimson, seemingly sucking me into a pit of blackness, an abyss from which there was no return. Vincent wasn't behind those eyes.

I never again heard him refer to himself as a monster, though he grimaced at the two newer forms. Cid may have also had something to do with that, once they finally met, but I cannot honestly say. As close to Vincent as I was, I think I may have been the first to sense their developing relationship. The pilot had something that Vincent needed, something that would help him overcome what had happened and see beyond his guilt and penance.

We had a lot in common, Vincent and I. Two of the most misunderstood members of our anti-ShinRa group. I don't mention Cloud because he is a special case altogether; I don't think anyone understands him.

Vincent and I were mysterious, the new enigmas of nature that baffled the group. I, due to my age and form, and he for mostly the same reason.

I've lived nearly forty-nine human years, though in my clan I am scarcely older than Yuffie. As a result, I sometimes act older than I am; I know more than it seems. Yet, I am still vastly unlearned, much I have yet to experience, almost a paradox.

And Vincent, he has lived for fifty-seven years, yet he looks no older than twenty-seven. He hasn't aged for any of the thirty years that he spent locked away in the coffin. It almost makes me wonder if he was immortal, if he would live forever.

I am in a form most similar to that of an animal, but my intelligence is of human proportions. I still remember how much it shocked people that I can speak and do so many things just as a human. I think Cloud was triply confused when he first met me… not that it is a difficult thing to accomplish.

And Vincent, though his form was more humane than mine, I think his appearance was a bit more frightening, at least to the general public. As long as I didn't speak, I appeared as an overgrown pet, but he was something different all together.

From his razor sharp claw – that I strongly suspect was just a weapon – and his scarlet and black clothing, he had an overwhelming presence. His eyes – that some like to call crimson, but I preferred to say they were crimson-amber – only added to his overall mystery and intrigue. The cloak, covering most of his face made it nearly impossible to distinguish his features.

It wasn't until after I changed forms that I realized he was actually someone considered good-looking. I'm not so sure if he believed it of himself anymore.

Of those present, we were bonded by our way of thought, by our wisdom, not that the others weren't smart, but they were on a different pattern. Riddles, vague extrapolations, witty banter that they could not follow, we had in common.

Who was Vincent? The man before Hojo altered him? I can only speculate.

His true personality began to show as he accepted his life and his trust in us. He was reserved and calm, not prone to angry irrational outbursts. He was often the voice of reason, and someone you could rely on in battle. He was intelligent and skilled, courageous above many things.

I admired him at times, and though it what I learned wasn't tangible, or easy to explain, it was present nonetheless.

I want to believe that he is still alive, though my hope is fading more quickly than the pilot's. Just as I deserve my chance to live and love, so does he; no matter what Hojo tried to take from us. He attempted to make all of us monsters, but we were stronger.

In the end, even Vincent had grown to understand that.


	8. Fidelius Familia Loyal Family

Thanks to reviewers!

Reeve's POV

**Episode 8: Fidelius Familia (Loyal Family)**

I can't help but feel angry at him for leaving Cid the way he had; in fact… for leaving all of us.

He never told us what he was going to do, not even his own lover. And now Cid… It's painful to see what has become of him. He clings to the hope, the belief that Vincent is still alive. I want to believe it as well, but it has been six months now. He would have turned up already.

And Cid is slowly dying. Without Vincent, he doesn't even want to live. It is heartbreaking to watch a man I consider to be one of my best friends slowly losing his grip on life.

The pilot, who used to be the one with the dreams… the aspirations to soar through the sky, is now only grounded by his very broken wings. It is a love that I wonder if I can even match, so deeply ingrained and true it appears.

Did he even know I wonder, when he decided to die, how much Cid loved him? Did he even realize how he had become a part of us?

Cid is the only one who displays it outwardly, but we are all hurting. Over the time that we spent traveling together a special bond developed between all of us, especially after Tifa's betrayal. It took Vincent longer than the others to learn to take part, but eventually we all considered each other like family. An eclectic one to be sure… but family nonetheless.

We all had our parts to play.

There was Yuffie, the itinerant brat that was like everyone's daughter. She was cheerful, always trying to keep up everyone's spirits, even though she bordered on annoying. Yet, no one would ever truly say that they wanted her to leave; in the end, we had all gotten used to her. It wouldn't have been the same without the kleptomaniac ninja.

Nanaki played the part of the wise grandfather, though his age belied him. In the beginning, he always had some concept to conjecture about or something intelligent to explain. He would watch over everyone and was even the very first to befriend Vincent, almost as if he knew exactly what the gunman needed. He was perhaps the calmest of us all. I never once saw him explode in anger or irritation. It was the most likely reason as to why he tolerated Yuffie more than the rest of us combined.

Aeris was like a mother to us all with her gentile demeanor, though that never stopped her from yelling at us when she felt the need. She was the only one who could make us feel guilty for doing just about anything, no matter how much Cloud attempted that stern look of reproach. In a way, she was the most manipulative of us all, knowing that her sweet exterior hid the "righteous bitchiness" – as Reno puts it – that was under the surface.

Reno was another one of those children that was always in trouble. With that unfailing grin and playful attitude, you would have never known that he was a member of one of the most ruthless part of ShinRa. Perhaps the twin brother of a sort, I would think, to the ninja. I suppose Reno and Yuffie were actually much the same, though I wouldn't dare say that to his face.

Actually, I might just to see his expression. Hmm.

There was Cloud, who should have been our leader, but often times came off as the cousin that everyone always whispered about. You know, the crazy one that every family has. He is the one that's always making weird comments and jokes, running off on random tangents and tends to get confused rather easily. Yeah, that was the blond swordsman.

What was that? Oh nothing, just Crazy Cousin Cloud; you'll get used to it.

It is kind of funny now that I think about it.

Cid was the one you could always count on to corrupt your children. The "cool" uncle if you will. The first to take them to a bar and get them drunk off their ass or the first to introduce them to they type of magazines that belong under beds; that describes Cid perfectly. He was the man with the airship, the one that could fly and the one that cursed like a sailor and did his job well.

If I had to choose a role for myself, I would like to think that I was more the father figure. I know I certainly felt that way at times. I am one of the oldest in the group, only Cid and Vincent rivaling my age. Even then, with the gunman's tendency to not take part in anything and Cid's sometimes lack of maturity, I felt the oldest of everyone. I've always had a fatherly complex; it goes along with my desire to someday have children… but that's a thought for another time.

But yes, I considered myself the father of the group. I'm not a man prone to bursts of temper, and it was often up to either Nanaki or me to rein in our more "excitable" members.

Do I dare say Reno?

Then there was Vincent. He was a part of our "family" also, but which role did he play? I cannot honestly see him as the child or the father or even the "crazy" uncle. It's hard to place him, only because he is so enigmatic. Yet, in the end, he began to show the true sides of himself, which had been so carefully hidden before. I suppose he was an uncle if nothing else but not like Cid.

Rather than being the "fun" uncle, he was the serious uncle. He was the one you would go to with your homework, the one that would teach you how to take care of yourself, or even show you shoot a gun. You could count on Vincent to give the honest truth when you spoke to him, never tainted or made attractive. You could rely on him to be the solid presence, to maybe even rein in Crazy Cousin Cloud.

I never really got close to Vincent. He was a hard man to get through to, just because of his "leave me alone" vibes that he was radiating in every direction. At the time, I was facing some of my own troubles. It was selfish, I know, but it was the truth nonetheless. It wasn't that he was unsociable or unlikable, but he did not like being asked questions. He hated for people to pry.

He was a man that wore his emotions behind a mask, one of thick ice and indifference. He used his cloak to hide away from others and the world, obscuring most if not all of his face should his façade deign to crack and reveal a bit of himself. Even his formal speech was a way to keep everyone away.

Whether it was for fear of rejection, of being hurt, or maybe just uncertainty for facing a world he hadn't known for almost thirty years, I cannot presume to guess. I know that whichever the case, he didn't want anyone to know what he was thinking or feeling… at least, not until he was ready to let them know.

I won't say that Vincent was cold or unfeeling as some believed, and he was most assuredly not a vampire. He displayed none of the characteristics of one, despite the fact that he emerged from a coffin and had scarlet eyes. I've certainly never seen him look with hunger at someone's bleeding wounds.

I never really understood why Barret made it his duty to inform me that Vincent was a vampire and that I should watch out for him. I just raised an eyebrow and shrugged my shoulders, shocking him to hell when I told him I might like getting bitten. It was actually sort of amusing. I didn't go into details about Reno's biting fetish… but that's getting off topic.

He had a sense of humor, too, buried beneath the layers of apathy and disregard. I still remember the few times I heard him make a joke, the one about Nanaki and himself, and even when he imitated Reno back in the Northern Crater. Cid had also told me about the joke on the Rocket, laughing because he couldn't remember ever seeing the gunman watch that show. It must have been a memory from his youth.

The half-smirk that tugged at the corner of his mouth, looking more suited on his face than a full out grin, was probably one of the more memorable moments about our excursion into the bowels of the crater. I only wished Cid had gotten to see it, though the pilot had most likely seen a lot more than that one half-smile that we were privy to in that minute.

We were all like that, storing little memories just in case they were all we had left, committing to our hearts the small things that kept us going: the sound of a laugh, the twinkle of an eye. In Cloud's case, the dried flower that he didn't think anyone knew about in a small leather pouch tucked into his pocket. I know I chose to remember such precious events of Reno and me, squirreled away into the deepest parts of my heart. I didn't want to think about losing him, refused to consider the possibility, but still…

I won't even go into that. There is no reason.

I didn't know Vincent that well personally, though I was beginning to the closer we got to the crater. The more time he spent with Cid, the more willing he was to open up to the rest of us. I saw him take Yuffie's taunting more in stride, not even glaring half as much as usual. I observed as he carried a short conversation with Reno, though I'm not sure what they talked about – Turk business most likely.

He even allowed Aeris to touch him once. It was nothing big, just a friendly pat to the shoulder, but instead of wincing and subtly shrinking away from her touch, he just nodded his head at her. He never actually physically shied away from anyone. I really don't know how he did it, but he moved away without making it obvious – not that people attempted to touch him often. I think in the beginning, everyone was a bit afraid of him.

The more he opened up to us, the more I found that he and I had much in common with each other. We were both more of the intellectual types, not that the others were dumb; I mean, Cid is absolutely brilliant, though it was sometimes hard to tell beneath the grammar – that sometimes bordered on ridiculous – and extensive cursing.

He carried himself some of the same ways that I did, which was how I knew without actual proof, that as a child, he had been raised in a family with money in some shape or form. It seemed not even Hojo was able to beat that small bit of arrogance out of him.

I think of the way he fought, and I realize, even though he was sometimes unsure of himself in terms of dealing with people, he was an absolute terror on the battle field. He had a fierce expression and a fiery determination in his eyes that even frightened the monsters, things which weren't supposed to feel fear. I certainly wouldn't want to come up against him in battle.

I never understood why some had the impression that he was a bit on the insane side simply due to the fact he was an introverted guy. Not everyone is cut out for being as loud and obnoxious as my lover… or Yuffie, for that matter. It suits Vincent far better to be quiet and contemplative.

To be honest, I'm not surprised that Cid was the first to see beneath the red. 1 He has a bluntness about him, a way of seeing the truth behind the lies and almost an instinct in knowing what a person needs. Beneath that blustery, coarse exterior lies a heart of gold, a truly sensitive romantic.

Just don't let him catch you saying that. He's a man's man… or something like that.

We all have Cid to thank for drawing Vincent out, making him a part of our big family… so that in the end, when we faced Sephiroth, we were like one. We were a unit of loyal soldiers, willing to do whatever it took to save the world that we loved so much.

I do hope that Vincent is alive out there. I sincerely wish that we could find him. He deserves to be home with the man who loves him and the rest of his friends, the rest of his family

The gunman has earned the right to be a part of something, to be important to someone.

And as soon as we find him again, I'm certain we, his loyal family, will let him know.

1 I wrote this in here without realizing it, but it is also the story title for a really good Cid/Vin fic by Nevaeh Bluden on You should go read it. It's really well written and has an interesting take on their relationship.


	9. In All That Matters

Mr. and Mrs. Uesugi's POV

**Episode 9: In All That Matters**

How many years since I saw your face, my son? How long since I have heard your voice?

I call you son because truly you are, in everything but blood. It is I who raised you, I who offered you a home. You needed never know that I am your uncle's wife, that your father was truly your uncle. But you learned anyways…

I shouldn't have kept such secrets truly, should have told you long ago of your mother and father and the truth, why you were given to us. I loved you as my own, Vincent; it matters not our blood.

You were always such a quiet child, content to sit by yourself or lie outside and stare out at the stars. You always contemplated such vague mysteries and thought to yourself. I could never really understand that – your fascination with the unknown. You would help me in the kitchen, if I asked, or watch your father as he cleaned and sharpened his swords… always with wide inquisitive eyes.

Such a precocious child, you were Vincent. And stubborn as well… nearly everything had to be your way. I remember your uncle tried to take you to get your hair cut, it was always falling into your eyes, but you threw such a fit, flatly refusing to go.

'I like it this way', you had expressed loudly, even at only four.

We tried to reason with you, that it would only hamper your vision, but you wouldn't listen. I remember we just gave in, it required far less effort than dragging you anywhere near the shears.

I never would have believed that you would turn to guns… that they would become your passion. I always thought you would turn to the sword, like your ancestors from your mother's side. You certainly had the build and were graceful enough in your movements to be a brilliant swordsman.

I suppose I can't blame you for wanting to know of your true origins. When you found out you had been adopted, by chance entirely, I can understand your anger. You must have hurt as well, deep in your heart, to know that your father had given you up, that Reika had died upon your birth. You must have felt so alone, regardless of the love that we had given you.

I hope that you did not censure your father too much for his gift to us. You were a blessing on our family, him granting this small bundle that he knew he could not care for on his own. With Reika dead, you were the last reminder of the woman he had loved. It hurt him far too much to look at you, your eyes so reminiscent of her own. Even my husband saw his sister in you; you look so much like your mother.

Nor did Grimoire know what to do with a child. He had had no brothers or sisters growing up and hadn't been married long. He feared he wouldn't be able to provide you the affection you needed. He was afraid he couldn't love you as a child deserved to be loved. It was a hard decision, but he thought it best, and we never feared that you would go without.

He stopped by sometimes, your father did, when you were sleeping or such, to drop off small gifts or just see how you were doing. I think in his own way he loved you but just didn't want to invade upon your life now that he had made his choice. Without Reika, he truly was alone. Yet, he was a strong man, your father, you would be proud to know that.

He knew, Grimoire did, that we could not have children; he knew we would take good care of you. So he made a choice, probably not the one you would have preferred, but he did make it. The day you entered our lives, Vincent, was the happiest day I can recall.

He also knew nothing of Wutaiian customs, and that your mother would have wanted you to grow up with some semblance of your heritage. Although I was but half and your uncle full-blooded, as was your mother, we tried our best. You certainly looked enough like your uncle that no one questioned anything… until racial tensions grew to heights in Wutai.

War hadn't broken out between ShinRa and Wutai yet, but it was coming. Tensions were high and everywhere, children of mixed blood were being discriminated against. The High Lord was trying his hardest to calm the fears of his people, but alas, the reservations of the masses were not always to be so easily calmed. For fear of our lives, we decided to leave Wutai… leave our ancestral home in hopes to find a place where we would not be hated for our heritage.

We moved several times before settling in Junon, the originally small harbor town that was a base of ShinRa. Odd that we should find a home so near to the enemy… and yet, your father was not the enemy either. We were left in a conflict, caught between the lines of heritage and family. Only wanting what was best for you, we opted to remain in Junon. Perhaps it was that decision that enabled you to find the truth of your birth. Perhaps not.

I cannot fault you for wanting to leave and find your father. Grimoire, though absent in your life up until that point, was someone important to you. I understand your choice to join the Turks, taking the name of your birth father and forsaking us. The pain in our heart can never be matched, but we do realize your decision.

You never knew I could not have children, and I was not ever going to tell you. I always loved you as my own, not because you were all I would ever have but because you were a child worthy of love. Every moment is something that I will treasure forever, and I only hope that, even in your darkest moments, you never forget us.

I remember as a child that, though you spent time alone, you had friends – our neighbors and that little girl from up the street. I can't remember the Loire boy's name, but I'm sure that the girl's name was Beatrix. The three of you used to wander around the neighborhood, Loire always goading Beatrix and you into doing something that would get you into trouble.

You were quite the trio. Loire, with hair nearly as dark as yours and shining crystalline blue eyes, he always had a trick up his sleeve. He was the general happy one in the group, always able to bring Beatrix and you out of your shells, especially you, Vincent. Sometimes it took him pulling you by your arm to get you to leave this house. You looked up to him, at times, which I understand. Loire was a good couple years older than you.

Beatrix, with her beautiful amethyst eyes and brown hair, she was a pretty girl. I had never seen eyes that color before I met her. I was so used to see the brown and grey of Wutaiians. She was quiet, much like you, but more of a book worm, always taking things apart with her hands and trying to put them back together. I remember one time, you had broken one of your toys and brought it to me to fix, but I was flabbergasted. Beatrix just took the broken toy from my hands and calmly put it back together as if she had been doing it all her life. She was a brilliant child.

I never really understood what attracted the three of you together, what about Beatrix and Loire made you want to befriend them. However, the three of you shared a common interest, a love of guns. I don't know why children had such fascination with weapons, but it was what bonded you to them.

One such occasion remains bright in my mind simply because it was one of the rare times that I caught you laughing.

I won't say that you were unhappy or even sullen. You did smile and occasionally laugh, but true and genuine laughter was something that was uncommon, and so I cherished every moment someone managed to drag it out of you.

I happened to walk past the den where your friends and you were sitting around and talking. The Loire boy was making some weird faces as he recalled some vague adventure he had convinced Beatrix and you to accompany him on. I remember something about Old Lady Juliana down the street and some kind of prank. I wanted to frown disapprovingly, but then I caught sight of you.

Vincent, you were laughing, the kind of laughter that brings a sparkle to your eyes and a flush to your cheeks. Beatrix was adding in her own little blurbs of recognition, occasionally correcting Loire when he made a mistake. You didn't have anything to say, but your laughter… it warmed my heart. All thoughts of chastising you faded with that sound.

You were together for much of your childhood, through school and such. Until the Loire family had to move to Gongaga, and Beatrix met a man, marrying him and moving away. I always thought that the two of you would fall in love and give me grandchildren. It always seemed you were quite taken with her, but perhaps it was just young friendship that I didn't understand.

It wasn't long after the both of them left that you found out the truth of your heritage. I'm still not entirely sure how that came about. Just one day, you came home yelling about why we had never told you we weren't your real parents. You wanted to know the truth, you wanted to know who your father was. And so we told you. After that, you vowed to find him. And you did.

He encouraged you to join the Turks, and so you did, eventually becoming one of their best gunmen. I followed your career as closely as I was able, though much of what you did remained classified. Your father helped by cluing us in, though he couldn't understand why you turned your backs on us.

And then, your father died, and we lost all connection with you. It became more and more difficult to find information on your well-being. You had become like a ghost to us, flitting in and out of rumors. I had heard that Vincent Valentine had become commander of the Turks. I felt immensely proud in that moment, always knowing that you would be successful.

Last I knew, however, was that you had disappeared. We never heard from you again. Yet, I want to believe that you are still alive out there somewhere, that you have gone on, perhaps found love on your own… maybe even have your own children.

I would like to think that some day you would forgive us for our discretion. That some day you will walk back through these doors, pull me into a hug and call me mother again. I will never have another child, Vincent; there will only be you… and not because I can't have anymore.

I have always loved you as my own. That will never change, even if I die never again seeing your face. Your picture still hangs above the mantel, your room untouched. My only kin are my husband and you, the two most important men in my life.

You are my son, Vincent, in all that matters. Nothing could ever change a mother's love. I believe, that in the end, we are your parents and you are my child.

My only son...

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Review please!


	10. Every Last Breath

Cid's POV

**Episode 10: Every Last Breath**

I love him.

There's no other way to explain how I think or feel about Vincent Valentine.

No, I'm wrong. It's more than love. It has to be.

I desire him, need him, ache without him here. I'm a ship that's lost his sail, an airplane without wings. I feel grounded, as if I'll never fly again. He's gone, and the sky has lost its glory. What was once my only solace from this world, no longer has any meaning to me.

I can't sleep without him in my arms. Every night, I toss and turn restlessly because, although I've changed the sheets, I can still smell him, and I feel him around me. He haunts my dreams, everything we've done, every trial and blood-soaked tear. I can see it clearly, as if I'm right there all over again. I can feel his touch, and it makes me burn inside with an unquenchable fire. I can hear his voice, rolling over my soul with each passing moment.

I love him with every fiber of my being, every tattered and brash, broken piece of me. He's taken over me, and without him, I feel like I've lost a piece of my fucking soul. I told Bugenhagen that I was no longer the Captain, that Cid Highwind no longer exists. And truthfully, I've lost it all. I can't be anything, without him here, as if my soul disappeared along with him.

But I know he's out there somewhere; I know he can't be dead. I won't even begin to believe that possibility because it would kill me. I refuse to consider that as the truth. I don't believe that Vincent would die without me telling him what I have to say. He never let me say it, and with that hanging between us, he wouldn't possibly just go off and die.

The others, they think I should give up, but they don't fucking understand. None of them know how I feel as I take on each day alone. Especially not Reeve, he has his lover right there with him, right beside him each day. Not that I fault them for their happiness, but it is given by my pain… by my loss.

And if he is gone… then I'll gladly go to meet him. There's nothing for me here… nothing that would keep me from going to him. I no longer wish to see the stars or walk on the moon. I no longer seek to build a bigger, better airship. Heh! I even had a name picked out, something reminiscent for the two of us.

Valenwind has a nice ring to it. I wanted that to be my gift to him, my gift for us. After the battle, I was going to tell the whole world, let everyone know who owned my heart. It belonged in the hands of a dark-haired ex-Turk with sparkling crimson eyes. I might not be much of a romantic, but I know true love when I feel it, and this pain, this haunting desire within me, can only be one thing.

I'm man enough to admit that I've shed tears, that I have broken on many occasions, that I ache without him here. I want him back! Can't anyone understand that? It's not as simple as moving on! I CANNOT forget, and I refuse to believe he is gone. I refuse to give in because my heart can't take it.

They say I am only prolonging the pain, making it worse with my delusions. And yet, it is all beginning to go numb. I'm not a dumb man, far from it; I know when to give up; I know when all is lost. But in this, I refuse to see anything but what my heart is telling me. It has always been that way when it comes to Vincent.

I remember when I first met him so long ago that day in Rocket Town. He suddenly appeared, like some dark crimson shadow behind me in my rocket and stood there silently. I sensed him almost immediately, though I took a moment before speaking, quietly judging him.

I did what I was best at, while trying to hide my surprise at his outright beauty. I played gruff, and I rambled on, and somehow, I found myself telling him everything. He just stood there coolly, watching me with those scarlet eyes and nodding occasionally. I can't explain the feeling that crept along my senses as I spoke to him. It was intangible, nearly imperceptible, but it was THERE.

And that's what matters to me. I knew from the moment that I met him, that there was something different about Vincent Valentine, and from then on, our lives would never be the same. I vowed to befriend him, to find out the reason behind the scattered emotions in those eyes, those beautiful orbs like red jasper.

He is a quiet and contemplative man but also a bit stubborn and haughty. I didn't expect to see him again, but damn, I wanted to. I wanted to taste that skin that I could barely see and discover what he was hiding beneath all that heavy fabric.

I am bi, have been as long as I can remember. I've had a few lovers in my life, male and female alike, but no one intrigued me like this Valentine. He was always so calm in my presence, no matter how much my temper flared. He is the perfect counterbalance to my emotions, the perfect yin to my yang.

And then luck was on my side, and we ended up, not only traveling together but sharing tents. I was determined to get through to him or at least be his friend. I'm not too thick-headed that I didn't notice how absolutely lonely he was. Vincent had the aura of being untouchable when in fact he needed it most of all. True, he was friends with Nanaki, but the lion wolf didn't have the obstinacy enough to pull him out, to make him react. Vincent needed someone who wasn't afraid to tell him the hard truth, and I was just the man to do it.

He was a tough nut to crack, ignoring all my attempts at conversation. I might have embarrassed him with that first kiss, but for me, it was intoxicating. He has an addicting flavor, and from the moment that I had a taste, I instantly desired more.

And not just his body either, I love his intelligence and quietness as well. I could rely on him for many things, watching my back in battle and offering up an opinion that I couldn't get from the others. He is the only one who ever really knew that I was actually intelligent beneath this bluster. It seems he is the perfect stability for me, everything I need.

It never bothered me, all the things that he hated about himself. His eyes were mysterious and original, his claw mechanical, which was kind of a turn on for me. After all, I am an engineer, aren't I? Even the fact that when he reached his limit he transformed into a demon didn't bother me. I knew he would never intentionally hurt me. In my eyes, he is just beautiful.

I never really understand his guilt complex either. In my point of view, none of it could really be considered his fault. Lucrecia made her own decisions; she was a grown ass woman. But I suppose when the heart is involved, you tend to see things through a narrow view. After all, even years later, Kyle still has the ability to piss me off more than anyone I know. I told Vincent so, that he should stop blaming himself for the actions of a mad man. But it wasn't until after he discovered some truths for himself that he believed me.

Memories of Vincent and I together are always on my mind. That first night in Gold Saucer is one of my favorites. It was the first time I saw him ever let go, even just a little. I knew he would be good at the game but I never expected him to make perfect score. He smiled that night, only a small one, and I could only tell from the look in his eyes, but I knew he had smiled. It was another first for me, seeing that small tugging at the corner of his mouth.

I remember how he tasted in the hotel room… our first true kiss. He was the one to come onto me, and I know I was surprised, although it didn't stop me from eagerly returning the kiss. The sweet flavor of the wine he had been drinking, the dark, strong flavor of the chocolate concoction that had been our dessert, and so much of that mysterious taste that was all him invaded my mouth. I found myself drowning in him, wanting more and more with each passing moment.

That's why I can't believe he is dead. We are meant to be, crazy as that sounds. I ain't ashamed to say that I believe in love at first sight, that soul mates are out there for each one of us. Shera is, after all, perfectly content with Rude, and Reeve, I've never seen a man happier with Reno. Happy endings do happen, and I want to believe that I would have mine with Vincent. He completes me and is everything that I need. I feel like I can't even find the right words to say it.

It hurts to think of it, the nightmares haunt me enough as it is, but I also know it is a day I will never forget. The final battle with Sephiroth… I think we all went in with the hopes that none of us would die, but the fear that something terrible could happen still weighed heavily on our hearts. I gave him Jade Tiger, and yet, I am still not sure why.

Perhaps I thought that the summon would protect him. Maybe I just wanted him to have a piece of me when we went into battle, so he would know I was always there with him. I never expected him to return the favor… but Diablos is dark now, nothing but an empty marble that holds nothing but a memory. It doesn't pulse with power nor swirl with energy. It is just a shell.

He wouldn't allow me to say the words, wouldn't let me tell him how much I loved him. How much I burned inside just for a word, a touch; how he had changed my life with just that one look. Maybe it was because he knew what he had to do.

I wonder; did he know he was going to die when we went to the crater that day? I can't imagine how he was feeling or what was going through his head. No one guessed it, though I can assume Aeris may have known something. But for a woman that talks to the Planet, she never even saw it coming.

A sacrifice… a life given… that was all a bunch of bullshit. It made no sense. He had to die to defeat Sephiroth? He took Aeris' place? That's what Cloud tried to say, that was his belief. But I don't think so. It doesn't make any sense, that type of sacrifice is bullshit.

I don't… No… I can't understand why he would feel the need to do such a thing. Maybe it was his unfailing need for redemption or the belief that he owed it to Lucrecia in some way, and perhaps it was my non-understanding that caused him to not tell me what he had to do. He probably knew I would have tried to stop him.

I won't ever be able to forget the look on his face or the feeling in my heart when I turned around and saw him bleeding. He had taken the hit intended for me; he had saved my life, and I could only gape in horror. There was so much blood that, although I was unfortunately used to the sight of it, it chilled me to the bone. I don't think anything can prepare a person for that type of thing.

It splashed on me, dotting my clothes and face until all I could smell was warm copper, but my eyes never left his. I knew in an instant that he was battling with something internally, even as he tried to convey what he felt in just a look. I couldn't go to him. I couldn't even hold him one last time before that damn demon took over, grinning maliciously. I didn't think that a kiss was going to work that time.

He told me to run; he gasped it on a final breath before that monster break free, and I was nearly frozen in place, unable to comply. He seemed in so much pain, and I wanted to stop it; I wanted to help. I don't think anyone can understand the abject uselessness that filled me in that moment. I was at a complete loss, standing there grounded with my mouth agape.

It was the attack of the Behemoth that finally drew me from my stupor and by then, it was too late to help. I could only watch as he took on Sephiroth by himself, and the rest of us were forced to evacuate. I had to leave… leave him behind. I couldn't help the feelings of betrayal that raced through me, as if I were abandoning him.

Perhaps I had.

I should have stayed and fallen with him… then we would be together wherever he is. Then I would not have to suffer. But instead I listened to his last words, his last order to run. I wonder if he even knows how much I wanted to stay.

I'm going to continue searching. Nothing will ever make me stop. With every last dying breath and movement of my body, I will continue to look for him. Nothing else matters, not even my own survival, nothing but finding him. Even if I have to follow him into death and beyond, I WILL find him again.

After all, Death cannot stop true love.

It can only delay it for awhile. (1)

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(1) Quote does not belong to me. Can anyone guess where I got it from?

Thanks for reading!


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